No Rush
by LiquidCaliban
Summary: Steve overhears Natasha saying he's vanilla in bed. He thinks this is a situation he has to rectify. Romanogers sexy times.


Disclaimer: Marvel owns 'em, yadda yadda yadda, and that's why we can't go to the zoo wearing fur coats.

Spoilers: Nope. Well, technically Iron Man 2, I guess. Timeline is post-CA:TWS, with no AoU looming because it makes things easier if you pretend the thing with Bruce never happened.

Pairing: Established Romanogers. And a thing I think I just made up that I'm calling Rushmanogers.

Summary: Steve is confused about kinkiness, ice cream and one of Natasha's aliases. All three collide in the bedroom. **M Rated**! But it's feely smut, not just touchy-feely.

* * *

Natasha leaned against the bar in the penthouse, sipping the fruity drink she'd just mixed. Charities weren't shy about asking the Avengers to do some fundraising, which they didn't mind, and Tony had been going really overboard throwing parties lately. She couldn't exactly complain about it when Steve was so appreciative of every new cocktail dress each evening seemed to require. They'd barely made it out of their apartment earlier that night when he'd seen the black and red one she'd slipped into for tonight. She smiled as she noticed him looking at her from across the room and raised her drink. He twitched his beer bottle in acknowledgment and went back to his conversation with Bruce slightly flushed. She shook her head and turned back toward Pepper and Maria. "Well?"

"I like it," Maria said, already finishing off her drink. "It's got a kick without punching you in the gut."

"It's nice," Pepper agreed, "but I thought you didn't believe in mixing anything with vodka?"

"Crappy vodka doesn't count."

"Isn't this Grey Goose?"

"I know! Who told the French they could make vodka?"

Maria impatiently clinked her now empty glass against the bar. "You're making more, right?"

"Trouble in paradise?" Pepper asked with a raised eyebrow, inclining her head toward a dark-haired man in a tailored navy blue suit, currently chatting with Rhodey. "I thought you really liked Tom."

"He's a great guy, it's just…" Maria whispered so Pepper and Natasha had to lean in to hear, "Have you ever had a guy ask you to help him go lingerie shopping?"

"Sure," Natasha replied, leaning back with a roll of her eyes and pouring ingredients into the shaker. "Although not Steve. He gets nervous, so I usually just surprise him. Thus far, field research has revealed that Jean Yu and La Perla are his favorites."

"Lucky. Tony usually just buys me whatever _he_ likes. Did you know he's letting a company in Italy make a signature line inspired by Iron Man?"

"I'd say that was weird if I wasn't curious about what Steve would think if I showed up in the bedroom dressed as sexy Cap."

"Oh, I can do you one better. He's not looking to shop for me." Maria didn't wait for another cocktail, pouring a generous measure of vodka straight into her glass and downing it. "It's for him."

Pepper gasped, but Natasha shrugged. "Some guys are into that. If you like him, just be open-minded."

"Hey, I could deal if he was wearing it under his suit at work as some kind of secret kink, but he wants me to sit in the dressing room at Victoria's Secret while he tries things on and then poses to ask what I think."

"Have you actually _done_ that?" Pepper nearly shrieked, drawing stares from the people in the vicinity of the bar. She lowered her voice to hiss, "I mean, do they allow that?"

"No idea because I told him I wasn't doing it."

Natasha poured Maria a fresh drink while topping off Pepper's and her own. "I wouldn't think they'd carry his size, anyway." She looked over at Tom, a junior executive with Stark Industries, before turning back to two open-mouthed stares. "What? He has that broad chest. I'm just saying he'd probably have to special order if he's not just looking for lacy, ball-cradling comfort."

"I doubt you'd be so cool if we were talking about Steve," Maria said, frowning into her glass.

"Please. Steve is strictly vanilla." Natasha glanced around, but Steve was no longer talking to Bruce. She didn't see him at all, in fact. Deciding he'd probably gone out on the balcony for some fresh air, she continued, "Not that vanilla isn't interesting. What kind of ice cream are you most likely to use for a hot fudge sundae?"

"Ugh, now I'm picturing you licking whipped cream off his chest," Maria complained.

Natasha paused for a moment as she produced a mental image. "That sounds amazing."

"I know!" Maria threw back the rest of her drink. "Thanks for taking Captain freaking America off the market for the rest of us, Romanoff!"

Natasha didn't feel guilty in the least, especially when she left the party to go home with Steve a few hours later.

* * *

"Does vanilla mean boring?"

Natasha turned from hanging her dress in the closet to look at Steve, who was sitting on their bed. He was wearing his shirt and trousers, though he'd taken off his jacket and tie. Considering she was down to her bra and panties, she thought he was ludicrously overdressed. He still had a bit of the downcast expression that he'd been sporting since they'd left the Tower; she assumed that Tony had made some dumb sarcastic remark that Steve had taken sincerely. "Sometimes. Depends on the context."

"All this time I thought things were going well." He hung his head and pouted. "But you've been bored."

"Steve, you've gotta give me more."

He looked up with a hopeful gleam in his eye. "If we have more sex you won't be bored?"

"Oh, vanilla _sex_!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "That's got a whole other meaning. Boring isn't a word I would ever associate with our sex life." She sauntered over and dropped into his lap, running her fingers along his stubbly jaw line. "You are _amazing_ in bed."

"Then why did you tell Hill and Pepper I'm 'strictly vanilla'?"

She sighed, wishing she'd been less candid at the party. Rather than apologizing, she pecked his lips and explained, "Vanilla sex just means we don't do anything most people would consider kinky, like bondage, S&M, that kind of thing."

"Oh." He looked like a deer in headlights, so she squirmed around and pushed against his shoulders. He willingly flopped back on the bed while she climbed on top of him. He caught her roaming hands before she could do anything interesting. "Uh, do you want to do, uh, kinky stuff?"

"I could take it or leave it. I wouldn't say no if it was your thing, but I always sort of figured you wouldn't be comfortable tying me up so I never suggested we try it."

He maintained his hold on her wrists and dodged an attempted capture of his lips. "Nat, I'm asking if you want something else. Something more."

"I want _you_. I mean, I am lying on top of you, practically naked, trying to kiss you and tear off your clothes. I think that's a pretty clear signal." She ground her pelvis against him for emphasis. "Your little super soldier is certainly standing at attention."

"But do you want me to…do other things?" He groaned as she pressed against him through his pants, but didn't let her have her hands. "Like, in addition to the, uh, vanilla stuff?"

"If you want to try something just to see if you're into it I'm open to that, but don't feel like you have to do something crazy." She rolled off him as he released her, not wanting to distract him further if they were going to have a semi-serious conversation. She pulled the duvet over her body. "I'm happy with us the way we are."

"Me too. But…I mean, I'm planning to be with you for a very long time." His blue eyes practically glowed with love and sincerity as he turned to look at her. "You'd tell me if you weren't, uh, satisfied with something, right?"

"You have nothing to worry about."

"You're sure?"

"Steve…" She wasn't sure if he was asking for reassurance or trying to suggest that he was interested in exploring new territory. "If you want to try something different to see if you like it, that's okay. We could start out slow and easy – role-playing, maybe."

"Er, what would that entail?"

"We, hmm." She rolled so she was lying against his side. Her fingers wandered into one of the gaps between the buttons of his shirt on their own as she thought of an example on the fly. "We would kind of be characters in a fantasy. Like, you could be a sexy firefighter who rescues me from a burning building and I just have to thank you. With sex."

His brows came together in a little scrunch over his nose. "Um, if I was a fireman and I rescued you, wouldn't you have to be treated by the paramedics while I go back to putting the fire out?"

"It doesn't have to be completely believable. It's like how no one ever really offers the pizza man sex in lieu of payment in real life. Like I said, if you're not comfortable with it, we don't have to do anything."

"Can I think about it?"

"Of course."

He caught her and pulled her back down when she tried to get up to finish getting ready for bed. "When you said we don't have to do anything, you didn't mean we're not doing nothing now, right?"

She didn't bother trying to sort out the negatives in the statement, too focused on getting his shirt off.

* * *

A few nights later, Natasha woke with the feel of Steve's gentle hands on her. She let it go on for a few moments before sleepily asking, "Mmm…what're you doing?"

"Shh. It's okay." He continued to run his hands up and down her arms. She was falling back to sleep when he suddenly wrapped something around her wrists and pulled them over her head in one motion. "The safe word is orange."

"Steve?" She tried to reach for him and realized that she was bound to the headboard by some kind of silky material.

"So, how long did you think you could get away with it?" The mattress shifted as he got out of bed.

"Get away with what?"

He clicked on the lamp on his nightstand. He was standing beside the bed, shirtless, and the loose pajama pants he'd pulled on couldn't hide his obvious excitement. "You're pretending to be Natasha, but I know who you really are," he paused dramatically and raised a finger to point at her before declaring, "Natalie Rushman!"

She blinked, taking a moment to wake up completely and put the pieces together. He hadn't mentioned the vanilla thing over the past few days, but Steve _would_ run with it and come up with scenario where they were essentially just playing themselves. She decided to go with it. "How did you find out?"

"Well…" He was thrown off for a moment, but quickly demanded, "You admit it then?"

"You obviously have it figured out, Captain Rogers."

"That's right. I'm Captain Rogers. And, uh, you have to address me as 'sir.'" He seemed to be getting surer of himself, standing up straighter and using his command-voice, "Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. You see that you can't escape."

"Yes, sir." She gave a gentle tug on the cord around her wrists. "You have me at your mercy, Captain."

"I'm glad you understand your position. Now, Miss Rushman, where is Natasha?"

She wasn't entirely sure how he was going to play this, so she settled for giving him a seductive look through her eyelashes that he usually couldn't resist.

He seemed like he was about to give in when he snapped back to attention. "Oh, no. That may work on me when Natasha does it, but I'm not falling for your tricks, Miss Rushman."

"I'll never talk."

"You'll never talk, what?"

"You can't make me call you sir," she said, tossing her hair as best she could with her arms loosely tied over her head, "just like you can't make me tell you where to find your girlfriend."

"Well, I suppose I'll have to torture it out of you."

"Torture me?" Natasha had a moment's misgiving. She knew Steve would never hurt her, but she wasn't sure what he was going for. Her trust in him won out. "Do your worst."

"I plan to." He moved to the end of the bed and pulled the covers off, exposing her completely. She shivered as the cooler air in the room hit her skin, but kept her eyes on Steve, burning with curiosity. He looked her over slowly with an approving nod.

"You like what you see, Captain?"

"Very nice." He grasped her ankles as he knelt on the end of the bed. "Almost as perfect as my Natasha."

"Almost?" She tried to remember that he was goading Natalie Rushman, but considering she _was_ Natalie Rushman…

In her focus on the vague sense of offense, she nearly missed him pulling her legs apart ever so slightly as he crawled up the bed. When she resisted, he used his body to gently force them open. He spread his hands out over her inner thighs as he worked his way further toward her. Leaning forward, he kissed her stomach just under her bellybutton. "You have one last chance to talk before this starts."

"No." She bit her bottom lip as his warm breath caressed her skin.

"Stubborn," he said with a chuckle before stroking a long finger through her wet folds a single time. "It's only going to get worse."

"You really don't understand what torture is, do you?"

"Oh, I've got a good idea." He used his fingertip to circle her clit without actually touching it. When she tried to push her hips against him, she found he was holding her against the bed. He was ridiculous in the best way possible. He had her tied up; he could have done anything and he'd chosen to…

"Ooh!" she cried out softly as he slid one finger inside her and began pressing soft kisses against her inner thighs, her lower abdomen, her mons…everywhere but where she really needed his mouth. He drew back and blew a soft, cool current of air against skin that felt like it was burning up. Suddenly, his tongue was licking a stripe from where his finger was slowly working inside her up to her clit. He made a seal around the sensitive bud with his lips and sucked, hard, drawing another cry from her.

He didn't relent, sliding a second finger into her as he alternated tonging and sucking her. She let loose a steady stream of encouraging moans, straining against her bonds. Oh, she wanted to twine her fingers in his hair, press his face harder against her. She began to tense, her body ready for the expected flood of pleasure…

And he suddenly pulled out his fingers and laid his head on her thigh.

She looked down at him in disbelief. "Steve, don't stop!"

"Told you I knew what torture was," he replied with smuggest damn grin she had ever seen on his face. She abruptly realized just how helpless she was, legs apart, hips pinned down, arms tied over her head. She groaned with frustration. He licked the top of her thigh, which was nice but didn't help her out _at all_.

"Come on, Steve!"

"You know how to end this, Miss Rushman."

She refused to beg, so she put on her best defiant expression – the best she could manage in her current position.

He shrugged and went back to his routine of soft kisses in places teasingly close to where she needed him to touch her. She was just starting to calm down when his head dropped back between her legs. He thrust into her with his tongue, once, twice before his fingers were back inside her, mouth where she wanted it. Although he was holding her down, she managed to grind against him just a little bit, getting that small bit more that she was desperate to feel. Just as she got close again, he withdrew all the glorious pressure and friction, leaving her hanging.

She unleashed a string of Russian curses that she knew she was lucky he couldn't understand, even if she meant every single one in that moment. She continued berating him as he smiled in an infuriatingly sweet way, ignoring her needs until he decided she was ready for another torture session. He really hadn't been kidding about that.

Another two uncompleted rounds later, she screamed out, "God damn you, Steve Rogers!"

"You know how to stop this, Miss Rushman. Just say the word."

"What do you fucking want?" She could feel tears of frustration stinging her eyes. She wasn't Goddamn Natalie Rushman and had no idea how to prove it to him. "Tell me what you want!"

"Just say _the word_."

She was about to kick him so hard his serum wouldn't heal him when the lightbulb went off in her mind. At the top of her lungs, she shouted, "Orange!"

He grinned and looked up at her. "Love you, Nat." His mouth and fingers were back to work before she could reply, not letting up when she was close this time. She came with a scream, pressing her hips up into his face. Pleasure coursed through her whole body, curling her toes and sending tingles through her scalp.

She was still trembling with her release when he crawled up to untie her hands an indeterminate amount of time later. "So…"

Her freed arms flopped to her sides. "Steve…you…wow."

"That was okay?"

"Amazing." She wished she'd remembered the safe word earlier, but she wasn't about to complain, considering her mind was still a little foggy with pleasure. "Just…wow."

"Good." He traced random patterns on her stomach with his fingertips. "I was planning to try it last night, but I wasn't ready. The Internet was less helpful than I thought it would be on the topic. Every time I tried to search for information, it directed me to pornography."

A comment about turning on safe search was dismissed by her currently dominant brain functions. "Well, you obviously found some helpful advice."

"Eventually." He buried his face between her shoulder and neck, kissing and sucking at her skin. "I think I definitely like it better when we're just Steve and Natasha."

"You don't know until you try it. Although in all fairness, you did get to be Steve."

"Well, you know I'm not the best actor."

"I'm not complaining. I love you the way you are." She somehow found the energy to wrap her arms around him. "I think I can manage a round of _us_ before we call it a night, provided you do most of the work."

He shifted to settle on top of her, his weight pressing her comfortingly into the mattress. She didn't feel trapped, though she couldn't push him off her if she wanted to. She couldn't imagine a scenario in which she'd want to as he dipped his head to kiss her long and lovingly. Her legs parted obligingly as his arousal twitched against her. He didn't drag out the moment, letting her align him at her entrance. She gasped as he pushed into her, filling her so completely she couldn't imagine there was a single nerve that wasn't currently firing.

Their rhythm was familiar, though it started out more quickly than it usually would. She pumped her hips against him, not shy about vocalizing her pleasure. He murmured into her ear, a mix of encouragement coupled with his own pleasured groans. As the pace increased, she landed on the perfect chant to match the feeling of their intimately joined bodies. "Love you…love you…love you…"

He was panting with effort now, trying to drive her over the edge again while making it last. "Na…ta…sha…"

"Love you, Steve!" she cried, a full-body clench overcoming her senses. Somewhere in the haze of her own pleasure, she heard him groaning with his own release, felt him clutching her as if his life depended on it.

He was still on top of her as she came back to herself a few moments later. She managed to sigh, "Oh, Steve…"

"I love you, too," he whispered. She nuzzled his neck, deciding the world was on its own if aliens decided to attack today.


End file.
